One Trick Pony
by Mickleditch
Summary: Gloria isn't suited to any of this. (Short character study, crack treated seriously, Solly x Gloria).


Disclaimer: all characters property of David Croft, Jimmy Perry and the BBC.

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Gloria sits in front of mirrors to lie to himself. He's very good at it now. Taffeta and wigs turn him into Ruby Keeler, Ginger Rogers and Judy Garland; turn him into a star. He practises sweeping his lashes down demurely, dismissive of any possibility that it looks comical, plucks his eyebrows, shaves his legs, works on his stage makeup routine until he has it down pat.

When he looks at his reflection, he wants to see a perfect mask. Something other than the bag of nerves that he is and closer to what he wants to be.

He thinks that it might be hereditary; the nerves. His aunt suffered as well. She'd had to keep going to hospital with stomach ulcers and being put on these special milk diets. Sometimes Gloria hears about too much smoking causing ulcers and then worries about _that_ as well, which always ends up making him need another smoke. Then he thinks that it might be because of bereavement and not remembering his parents.

His aunt said that he was exactly like her, delicate and sensitive. That they were artists by nature, and ordinary people would never, ever understand them. So many things frightened her that it started to make him jumpy too. But that was just the way that the two of them were, wasn't it?

She hadn't known much about children, really, and nothing at all about men. But she'd known a lot about the stage and given him that gift, his love of it, and when she'd first dressed him for her amateur productions, he'd felt special. He'd liked how people took notice of him when they usually didn't. When he looked into the mirror in the dressing room and saw a little girl, all ribbons and curls, looking back at him, instead of a scrawny inadequate boy, he felt _pretty._

Gloria much prefers himself as Ginger Rogers, though he's been leaning towards Rita Hayworth recently. He thinks it's the red hair. It suits his complexion better, while they're out here all brown like Indians.

He hates being sweaty, and he hates the mosquitoes, and he hates not having a proper theatre. But if he has to be a soldier, he supposes that, in the end, he could have done worse. He's never going to be who the sergeant-major wants him to be, because he's meant to be a star, not a greasy gunner, and it should be obvious to everyone that he's not suited to this and needs special treatment, but there are enough of them who know that to make it bearable.

He stopped bothering about being called Gloria a long time ago.

Solly calls him Gloria too, but also 'sweetheart', like he means it, not like he's taking the mick. He might roll his eyes sometimes, but he looks after Gloria, in the way that Gloria needs to be looked after. Whatever he wants for the show, whatever it is that he needs to be happy, Solly can somehow manage to get it with no questions asked. They're both professionals, and so they'd understood each other on that level right away, and since then their relationship's slowly progressed from and swung between tolerance and a closeness that Gloria isn't completely certain how much Solly wants from.

He doesn't know whether it's different from some of the attention that he's had in the past, or whether it's just the way that he feels about it.

He's tried girls who wanted him to be a man, and _couldn't,_ which makes him think that he _is,_ and then he's agreed to try it with men who wanted him to be a girl for them and still couldn't. Which makes him think that perhaps he isn't after all, and he still isn't sorted out like that and probably never will be.

He does his best not to think too much about actually trying it with Solly, because he always feels as if he _could_, with him. Mostly because Solly's never asked - or even really expected - him to be anything but himself.

Gloria isn't suited to any of this. Not India, and not the army. He hates cleaning rifles and whitewashing stones, and most of all he hates thinking about the jungle. It makes him agitated, and then it makes him snappy, and then it makes him hysterical. The only part that does suit him is being on stage. He can do the waltz numbers in high-heeled slippers, and he actually has a real satin ballgown now that rustles so authentically.

It's when he's dressed up that he most often thinks he could get up the courage to confess to Solly. He could play it like a finale. Ginger would confess to Fred, wouldn't she?

He dedicates himself to making the performance flawless. Treading the boards, pretending to be someone else, is what he's good at. He crafts the illusion down to the last detail. He has a reputation to maintain.

The thing is, none of it's ever been for the audience at all.


End file.
